


Fall is for Football

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Supernatural Drabbles [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 22:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: You find a relic in the trunk of the Impala.





	Fall is for Football

You found it in the trunk of the Impala, way in the back, buried behind several blankets, a flask of holy water, two old shotguns, and a bag of salt. It was beat up and well used. Scrawled across the side were initials in black permanent marker, the handwriting large and childish.

D.W.

You held onto it, slammed the trunk closed, and made your way back across the park to where Sam and Dean were sitting at a table under some trees. It was a beautiful fall day, the sky a clear blue with just a few white, fluffy clouds, a light, crisp breeze blowing through the park, stirring the yellow and orange leaves falling from the trees. They crunched beneath your boots as you walked.

You took a seat next to the eldest Winchester. He slid an arm around your waist and dropped a kiss to your temple. He was warm, so you moved a little closer until you were pressed against his side.

“I thought you got lost,” he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling you.

“Nah, just digging around.” You set the football in the center of the table.  

“Where’d you find that?” Dean laughed, grabbing the ball, tossing it the air and catching it several times. “I haven’t seen this thing in years.”

“Buried in the back of the trunk,” you shrugged. “Under a bunch of stuff.”

“Really?” Dean’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I don’t remember putting it in there.”

Sam grabbed it on one of the upward tosses, untangled his legs from the bench and scrambled backwards. He tossed the ball to Dean, who stood up and caught it in one fluid motion, a huge smile on his face. He threw it back to his brother, stepping around the table, a deep laugh rumbling through him.

You watched Sam and Dean throw the ball back and forth for a while. You’d never seen them so at ease - smiles on their faces, playful banter being exchanged, loose, relaxed. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Come on, Y/N,” Dean said after about twenty minutes. He took your arm, pulled you off the bench and put the ball in your hands. “Fall is for football, right?”

You followed him, laughing. You hadn’t played in years, not since you’d lived at home.

He jogged backwards, grinning widely. “Show me what you got, sweetheart.”

You threw the football, a perfect spiral whizzing through the air. Dean caught it easily with a triumphant yell.

“I knew I picked the right woman!” he crowed.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head at his brother’s delighted cries. The three of you settled into a wild game of catch, each of you trying to see if you could throw the impossible-to-catch ball. Sam was particularly good at getting the ball right where he wanted it, high and extremely difficult to catch. He kept you on your toes, running all over the park. You were grateful you were in decent shape - all that hunting paid off.

It was almost completely dark - the sun just a thin line above the horizon - and the park was nearly empty, save for a few stragglers hurrying to their cars, when Dean called time. He ran back across the park, football in hand, scooped you up with one arm, and spun you around before setting you on the edge of the picnic table. He set the football on the table beside you and pushed open your legs, stepping in between them. He put his cold hands on your flushed cheeks, laughing when you gasped, and caught your lips in his, his tongue sliding into your mouth, the kiss absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his mouth still pressed to yours.

“For what?” you murmured.

“It’s been awhile since we stopped to have fun,” he answered. “You finding that ball gave us the chance to just spend some time goofing off. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled, your arms sliding around him, beneath his jacket. You tipped your head back, inviting him to kiss you, which he did.

You would have sat there all night, kissing Dean, his hands roaming over your body, if Sam hadn’t cleared his throat from somewhere behind his brother, interrupting the two of you.

“Do you guys think you could wait to do that until you’re in your own room, alone?” he grumbled.

Dean laughed and released you. He kissed the tip of your nose, grabbed the football and threw it hard and fast at the younger Winchester.

“Think fast, Sammy,” he chuckled.

Sam caught it, doubled over like he’d gotten the air knocked out of him, laughing as he turned and started back to the car, yelling at the two of you to hurry up.

“Come on,” Dean said, taking your hand and pulling you off the table. “Let’s go. I’m ready to get you in our room, alone.”


End file.
